In my latest edition of Fox Restaurants, I went to The Arrogant Butcher in Downtown Phoenix. It’s kind of like a steakhouse, but it also has a lot of the food that you can find at other Fox Restaurants, which is either great or meh depending on how you feel about variety and creativity. So, we started off with a couple of appetizers before getting into the meat of the meal.

Tex-Mex is its own category of food. It seems weird because it gives the impression that Texans just somehow bastardized real Mexican food and had the audacity to put Tex before the Mex, but when you remember that Texas was once a part of Mexico, it begins to lose its weirdness. There is probably no place in the state of Texas where the former Mexican history is at the forefront of thought than in San Antonio, home of the Alamo (remember it). And in San Antonio is Mi Tierra, an old school Tex-Mex place with a full on panaderia to boot.

Salt. It’s a substance that inherently makes other substances taste better. Sow. It’s lady pig that, well, tastes good regardless. Combine the two and you have Salty Sow, a gastropub in Phoenix looking to bring some very gastropubby fare, drawing upon all sorts of classic American food, to the desert.

Sometimes you go to a Mexican seafood spot to get seafood. And sometimes, despite it being the middle of the afternoon, you go for breakfast. It wasn’t exactly the plan, but when I entered Baja Mar in Monrovia, I just couldn’t get my eyes off of the chilaquiles. Thus, I forewent shrimp and fish tacos for those delicious breakfast nachos.

As I’ve said many times around these parts, I have very little need for seafood in my life. Thus, when a decision was made to pay a visit to Fishing with Dynamite in Manhattan Beach, I was relieved to find out that there were not only a few more terrestrial options, but that they looked so good that I had a hard time deciding.

While Toronto is a couple borders north of the border, it is an incredibly diverse city with food from just about everywhere. One of the foods we wanted to check out was tacos, and this led us to Grand Electric. Now, going into this we knew that Grand Electric wasn’t going to be serving up traditional Mexican fare, but the menu seemed good enough that it didn’t matter.

Before basketball on Tuesdays I usually need to grab a bite to eat. For some people, this is a cramp-inducing process. I, on the other hand, cramp up while playing if I don’t eat enough. With that in mind, I went to Taqueria Juanito’s No. 1 in Balboa Park with my fellow baller and rather than order a couple little tacos, I got pretty much the biggest thing on the menu. It was their nachos, and came loaded with cheese, refried beans, a couple of salsas, cilantro and a meat of my choosing. I chose carne asada and pretty soon went to town on those nachos.

In the grand explosion of gourmet food trucks, tacos have found themselves mixed with all sorts of craziness, from Korean BBQ to fish and grapes to kung pao chicken. Yet, in all this food truck excitement, the bastard cousin/side dish of the taco has been left behind. Yeah, I’m talking ’bout Shaft…err…nachos. But along came The Nacho Truck to remedy this sad predicament. Before this truck arrived at my office, I knew nothing of it, so my expectations were pretty low. Yet, as someone who doesn’t keep nearly enough track of food happenings in LA anymore, it is certainly possible that The Nacho Truck had simply flown/driven under my radar.

Although I grew up in Michigan, I can’t remember ever setting foot in Grosse Pointe. I guess it was just too far outside the bubble of Farmington Hills/West Bloomfield. Fortunately, my buddy decided to marry a Grosse Point native, giving me my first chance to see what food was like on the other side of Detroit. We headed to the nice little downtown area of Grosse Point and got ourselves a table at the Village Grille.

Finding a happy hour around town on a Sunday afternoon isn’t the easiest thing to do. You would think bars would be itching to get customers to come in for a post-Mass drink, but we had a to call a good four or five bars to find ourselves a nice happy hour with a combination of food and drinks. The bar we finally landed on was Q’s Billiard Club in West LA. Their happy hour involved $10 pitchers (of any beer) and half-off appetizers. It all sounded perfect for a fun little hockey-watching Sunday.